Of Magic and Might
by Blood And Gold
Summary: When a strange woman and her cat crash-land in his territory, Lord Sesshoumaru is not best pleased. However, he quickly learns that Emilia is no paltry human... but a witch.
1. Preface

Preface

To those of you who might have encountered "Sense and Instability" in the few days that it was up, I can happily inform you that this tale is one and the same, albeit heavily revised and fine tuned (for your benefit, of course, dear reader).

I feel this tale is likely to encounter a lot of criticism, as original character stories so often are, however I pray that you give Emilia a chance. I think once you get to know her, you will understand why I chose to team her up with the fabulous lord Sesshoumaru, rather than pluck apart one of the many canon pairings that do just fine as they are.

For readers of my other works, I shall still be updating The Dog Starr as regularly as possible! Expect a new chapter soon!

** Disclaimer **

As ever, I am obliged, and rightfully so, to declare that Sesshoumaru, Jaken, Rin etc do not belong to myself, but to the fountain of talent that is Rumiko Takahashi, and that no profit is made from my borrowing of them. Emilia and Astaroth, however, do belong to me, but I think that goes without saying.


	2. Prologue

Prologue

High above the Eastern lands, Emilia flew determinedly through the buffeting winds, breathing deep the scents they carried towards her.

"Isn't it lovely," she commented to Astaroth, her cat familiar, "that each land we visit has a slightly different scent? I'm getting trees and grasses and lotus flowers. What about you?"

Astaroth, who was perched precariously on the tail of her broom, as all good familiars should, merely shook his furry head.

"It is not the scents of plants and flowers that concern me," he responded, and his amber eyes scanned the vista warily. "I have been warned by many that this land is riddled with demons. We would do well not to draw attention to ourselves."

"But you are a demon, Astaroth," Emilia reminded him, with a wry smile. "I have yet to find myself under threat from you."

"These demons are not like those that roam our land," the familiar responded, a hint of impatience betrayed in his usually steady voice. "They are powerful, independent creatures; wilful and dangerous. They recognise no master and serve only their own volition. If we could avoid them, it would be for the best."

"Oh, nonsense, Astaroth," said Emilia, hastily. "I am perfectly capable of defending myself."

Astaroth made no retort, though the young witch could almost hear the sarcastic response that had surely formed in the familiar's mind. She saw no cause for his cynicism; they had been travelling together for months and sustained little more than scratches and blistered feet. In fact, Emilia was quite proud of her achievements. It had angered her when her brothers had scoffed at her plans to travel, telling her that weak women had no cause to go adventuring. When her father had outright forbidden her to go without a chaperone, she'd decided enough was enough and that she would prove them wrong once and for all. So, in the dead of night, she had packed up her supplies and her broom and left the family home, with only her faithful familiar for company. Thus far, she had done well by herself. _Bring on the demons_, she thought darkly._ I shall show them what this _mere woman_ is made of. _

She flew on in resolved silence, steering her broom away from the coastline. A little further inland and should begin looking for a suitable landing spot.

"What land is this, Astaroth?" she called to her familiar, over the rush of the swelling winds.

"It has many names," the cat responded. "But you will see it labelled on our maps as Japan."

_Japan._ Emilia smiled to herself – it was a fine name, for what she hoped would be a fine country. She wondered what the people might be like, how their dwellings might look, whether the magical community here was concealed, like her own, or out in the open for all to see, as she had discovered in some of the other lands she had encountered. She pondered what these foreign witches and wizards might be able to teach her – how it would put her father in his place to return with new and unprecedented skills that would baffle her English brethren! Her mind trailed off into daydreams, thoughts of humiliating her misogynistic family with an impressive display of jinxes, when a shout from behind brought her back to her senses.

"Do you see that?" Astaroth cried, a note of urgency to his voice. Steeling herself, Emilia scanned the skies around them. A little way to her left, she caught sight of a black bird flapping amidst the clouds.

"The bird?" she wondered, confused by the panic in her familiar's voice. "What of it? It's just a bird."

"Look again!" the cat commanded shrilly. Frowning, Emilia did as he asked. To her surprise, the black bird was considerably bigger than it had been a moment ago ... and it was getting bigger by the second as it flew right towards them.

"Oh!"she cried, feeling at once both foolish and alarmed. "That's not a bird, is it?"

"No, it most certainly is not!" Astaroth exclaimed. "Now, might I suggest we mo-"

But it was too late – the monstrous creature was already upon them, swooping out of the sky like a feathery spectre. It was the most horrible looking bird Emilia had ever seen, with great red eyes, a cruel, serrated beak and oily black plumage, almost like tar. It was enormous too, bigger by far Emilia, with talons the size of cartwheels. Emilia gave a shout of fright as it plummeted towards them, claws outstretched, clearly anticipating her as its next meal. The witch narrowly avoided its talons with a deft manoeuvre of her broom and the ghastly creature bumbled off past her, screeching.

"It's coming back," warned Astaroth. "Do something!"

Emilia had not needed her familiar's warning; she had seen the bird realize its error and turn around, ready for a second attempt at the hunt. This time, though, Emilia was ready. As it plunged towards her, ready to strike, Emilia raised her hand and propelled a single ball of angry red flames right at the creature's chest. Her aim struck true and at once the oily looking feathers ignited, the fire billowing with an alarming ferocity. The bird demon gave a pitiful screech and began to flail its wings madly. Emilia had not accounted for this eventuality and she had to swerve her broom quite suddenly to escape the floundering monster. However, her reaction came just a moment too late and before she was quite out if its reach, the demon brought a burning limb crashing down at her and Astaroth. Emilia felt her body collide with the wing, felt the heat of its flaming plumage as it knocked her clean from her broom. There was a moment when she seemed to float in midair, inches away from the burning bird. Then, to her horror, she found herself plummeting unaided towards the ground below. Trees, grass and rocks loomed into her vision, growing larger and larger. Emilia screamed and threw her hands over her face, though to what end she did not know. She tried her utmost to visualise something soft and non-threatening to break her fall, but the image of her skull being dashed on the rocks below was quite a persistent one. Resignedly, she braced herself, expecting pain at any moment ... but it did not come. Instead she landed with a gentle rustle into something crisp and yet soft and opened her eyes with surprise. It was an enormous pile of leaves. Emilia blinked and gave a high, nervous laugh. As her hands patted down her body, checking for any notable injuries, she heard a yowl and another soft thud as Astaroth landed in the drift next to her. There was a crisp crackling then, less that a metre away, a furry grey head emerged from the leaves. Emila could not help but giggle.

"Leaves," Astaroth groaned, as he spat bits of detritus out of his feline mouth. "Could you not have conjured pillows?"

"You're lucky I conjured anything at all," Emilia smiled, and she picked a bit of maple leaf out of his fur. "That was rather a close call!"

She scooped up her familiar into her arms and began to wade out of the drift. The moment her feet met the grassy floor, the leaves vanished and Emilia offered up a silent prayer of thanks to the blessing that was instinctive magic. She set the disgruntled Astaroth down at her feet and took a moment to drink in their surroundings. They were clearly in some patch of heavy woodland and were quite lucky to have missed the trees on their way down. Casting her eyes upward, she noted with relief that the bird demon had gone, though the air still carried the lingering scent of burning plumage.

"Are you alright?" asked Astaroth, leaping up onto a tree stump to get a better look at her.

"I'm fine," Emilia murmured, still scanning their environs. "I'm not even singed. A couple of bruises perhaps but that is nothing really."

Her gaze fell upon a velvet bag at the foot of a nearby tree – the pack that contained her belongings. Relieved it had not been lost, she seized it and, brushing the splintered wood off it, slung it over her shoulder.

"Ow!" she cried, and she glanced down to see a tiny splinter of golden wood buried in her palm.

"Everything okay?" Astaroth questioned from his sphinx-like perch on the tree stump.

"Yes," Emilia sighed. "Just a splinter." She seized the little sliver of wood with her thumb and forefinger and plucked it out of her skin. The tiny wound healed at once and Emilia was just about to toss the offending object over her shoulder when something caught her attention. The splinter was bright and clean, as though from fresh wood. Yet neither she nor Astaroth had hit any trees on their way down and her pack was not nearly heavy enough to damage these sturdy evergreens. With a jolt of horror, Emilia realised where the splintered wood must have come from. She glanced up and there is was: the shattered remains of her faithful broom, tangled around a lower bough of the tree.

"Oh," she whispered, as disappointment washed over her like an icy wave. She stood on her tiptoes and retrieved the mangled shards of wood from the boughs of their conqueror.

"Oh dear," Astaroth murmured with a note of sadness, as she lay the remains gently on the floor like a fallen comrade.

"It's okay," croaked Emilia, even as hot tears began to prick the corners of her eyes. "I can fix it."

"Emilia," the familiar whispered, and the kindness in his voice made her want to sob. "My dear girl, you cannot fix that broom. Not even a skilled broomsmith could fix it."

"Then we shall buy another!" replied Emilia crossly, though whom she was cross with she had no idea.

"We have no other option," said Astaroth, patiently. "Though it may take us some time to locate a broomsmith in this land. In fact, you may have to accept they may not even use brooms here."

"Then we shall find some other mode of transport," the young witch sighed, wiping the angry tears from her eyes. "We'll just have to make do."

"Indeed," Astaroth nodded, and he performed the closest imitation of a smile that his tiny cat body would allow. "So, where to?"

Heavily, Emilia got to her feet and glanced around the clearing. There gaps and potential pathways everywhere. Which way she was meant to go, she had no idea, though she knew it would be a good idea to find a settlement first of all. Her eyes were drawn upwards and she spotted the ghostly orb of the moon, pale and ephemeral against the sunlit sky.

"Let's follow the moon," she suggested, softly. "I have a good feeling about the moon."

"As you wish," Astaroth conceded, and he sprang down to trot obediently at Emilia's ankles as she guided them into the trees.


	3. Chapter One

_Author's Note:_ _Finally finished it! Phew. Now, I'm going to acknowledge from the off that this chapter is not as polished as I would like it to be but it was so horrifically difficult to write, I can deal with that! Sesshoumaru is so hard to portray! I can only hope I've done him justice – reviews and suggestions are very welcome. Next time, some fun with phonemes. __J_

Chapter One

_White flower, pink flower, white flower..._"Oh!"

Rin gave a cry of delight as her soft, chocolate eyes fell upon the blossom, its petals so rich a shade of scarlet they were luminous in the moonlight. She had been looking for what seemed like hours for another red one and finally she had found one. Positively beaming, the girl plucked up the little flower from its leafy abode and tucked it into her obi with the other.

It had started as a petty game, something with which to amuse herself. Sesshoumaru and Jaken were deep in one of their grown-up's conversations and, whilst her Lord had not shown any displeasure at her presence, Rin had soon gotten tired of Jaken glaring at her for humming or fidgeting or sighing. So, she had decided to leave her guardians to it and had let the night forest swallow her up. She had not been wandering long when she had stumbled across a blossom tree, whose pink blooms adorned the ground like confetti. The girl had gathered up the nicest of them, thinking they would make a pretty wreath for her hair. She had wondered for a moment what her wreath might look like on her Lordship's hair but she had dismissed the thought at once: Lord Sesshoumaru was a warrior and warriors did not wear pink flowers in their hair.

She had thought nothing more on the matter until she had spied the first red one. It was a crimson dog rose, far too apt a discovery to be ignored. At once, Rin's mind had raced with illicit thoughts – imagine this flower against her Lord's beautiful silver hair! How striking it would look! Not to mention, it matched his kimono. Yes, the girl decided there and then that she must find more red flowers, enough to make a beautiful wreath for a handsome youkai ... or at least enough perhaps to braid into his hair. The fact that she had yet to get close enough to his hair to touch it, let alone braid it, was quite beside the point. Her Lordship was not unreasonable – not to her. She felt sure she could persuade him to indulge her.

However, there was a canker in the rose of her plan. Red flowers, it seemed, were few at far between, at least in the cool, dark caress of the night. She had found white ones and pink ones, yellow ones and orange ones, but no more red. Now, of course, she had two, but two blossoms were not enough to make a wreath. Perhaps, she thought dolefully, as her eyes scanned the forest floor, she could simply tuck one behind each of his pointed ears; surely that would look as nice?

Her contemplations were distracted quite suddenly by the appearance of voices. They were soft and distant for the moment, but growing steadily clearer. Shielding her precious hoard, Rin straightened up and cocked her head, as she had so often seen Sesshoumaru do when he was listening. There were definitely two voices, that was for sure. She could also ascertain that one was male and the other female. However, what the voices were saying she could not fathom for they were issuing for the strangest collection of sounds she had ever heard. At once, Rin felt a little fearful and she backed out of the open and against a tree, wondering if she could make herself so small that these curious creatures, whatever they might be, would not notice her. The voices were fast becoming louder, closer and Rin's pulse quickened. She knew in her heart that she was in no real danger, that Sesshoumaru was close enough by to rescue her should she need it, but anticipation was getting the better of her. Soon enough, there came a rustle in the bushes just opposite her and to her surprise, a single figure burst through the undergrowth. Rin let out a breath of wonder; it was a woman, though a woman the likes of which she had never seen before. This woman was fairly tall, with white skin and pointed features, and was dressed in peculiar clothing– a heavy gown of some thick, shimmering green fabric with elaborate gold trimmings. Stranger still was her hair, which was a colour Rin had trouble describing. Was it pale gold? Goldie-yellow? She was unsure, but it was certainly an unusual colour for hair to be. She appeared to be alone, save for a gray cat who was trotting obediently at her feet. Rin wondered where the other speaker, the male speaker, had disappeared to. She hoped with chagrin that he did not run into Lord Sesshoumaru.

Across from her, the golden haired woman stopped in her tracks and peered curiously at the spot where Rin was standing. She had kind eyes, the child noted; soft, round and blue, like deep ocean waters and midnight skies. Rin's anxiety evaporated at once and she took a brave step towards the woman. She rather wanted to pet the cat, who was mewling at his mistress's ankles, but decided that it would not be polite – not, at least, until they'd been introduced.

"Hello," she said, gently. "My name is Rin. What is yours?"

The woman did not reply; her face merely crumpled into an expression of dismal perplexity. She glanced incomprehensibly down at her cat, who meowed again, before looking to meet Rin's eyes. Slowly and quite deliberately, she shook her head, and Rin took it to mean she could not understand. Once again, the child felt anxiety blossom within her, though she was not afraid as much as embarrassed and unsure what to do. This time, however, her distress did not go unnoticed. A little way away, she felt Sesshoumaru's youki flare in response and knew that he was coming. Apparently, the woman had felt him too for she was looking wildly around the dark forest, as though trying to discern the oncoming presence. Her blue eyes were wide with disquiet and Rin felt sorry that she could not say anything to reassure her. She could only watch at the woman visibly steeled herself and, turning again to her cat, said something in her own language. Rin was just thinking that this was odd behaviour indeed when the cat turned and spoke back, in the very same voice she had heard earlier! Unwittingly, she gave a cry of surprise and both cat and woman stared at her. Nearby, she heard her Lord call in her name in a menacing growl and she felt sorry that she had shouted, for now he would think she was in trouble. She could just see the woman mouthing her name silently, realisation dawning on her pretty face, when he burst through the trees with a snarl, his sword drawn. The woman gave an unmistakable gasp of fear.

Emilia stared from the small, dirty child before her to the demon who had appeared, snarling, from the undergrowth. The girl – Rin he'd called her – was tugging on the fabric of his clothing urgently, gabbling away and pointing at her as though trying to explain. Emilia's heart was pounding like a badly conducted drum line and she felt sure he could probably hear it, could probably sense her fear. For once, she did not care; she was terrified and she saw no reason to pretend otherwise. At her ankles, she felt Astaroth stiffen and looked down to see his fur on end, hackles raised.

"I told you this land was crawling with them," he hissed, and his outburst drew the demon's gaze away from the child and once more to them. "Just my luck," Astaroth added. "A dog demon."

Emilia glanced curiously towards the demon and was relieved to see he was putting away his sword. He looked nothing like a dog, she thought, as she took in his appearance. In fact, he looked just like a human, or at least a passable imitation thereof, for there were a few minor discrepancies.

She tried not to dwell on his unusual markings or unworldly hair and focused on the matter at hand. Of all the times for a language barrier to cause problems, this was not one of them. The demon was approaching her and, though his weapon had been stowed away, Emilia was sure he did not require steel to cause her harm. Deftly, he took her by the chin and lifted her gaze up to meet his own. Emilia's eyes met his golden ones and she had to force herself not to gasp. He spoke, in a low, calm voice that was almost mocking of her current predicament, though of course she did not understand his words. At her feet, Astaroth was hissing his displeasure.

"I don't understand you," Emilia told him miserably, though she knew her attempts to communicate were futile. Sure enough, the demon simply blinked at her words before speaking again, laying a more pronounced stress on the sounds that were his language. Emilia wanted to laugh, a hollow humourless laugh, but she decided against it. She tried to glance at the little girl, to will her to explain again, but the demon simply jerked her chin back round to his gaze.

"Unhand her, you brute!" Astaroth snarled from down on the ground, and to Emilia's horror, he made a swipe for the demon's ankles with a clawed paw. The demon, who did not seem at all fazed by the notion of a talking cat, blinked disdainfully at the familiar. He had been done no real damage, save for a few snags in his heavy silk pants, but nevertheless he rewarded Astaroth with a swift kick for his efforts, sending him flying into a bush.

"Don't you touch him!" cried Emilia, furiously, and before she could stop herself, she had slapped the demon with all the strength she could muster. A sickening horror flooded her body at once and a low growl in the demon's throat made her blood run cold. He lifted his face, which was marked pink with the imprint of her hand, and Emilia saw a flash of red in his amber eyes. He snarled, his fanged teeth bared; behind him, the child he protected began to shout frantically in her unfamiliar tongue but he appeared to pay her no heed. Spitting with fury, he bore down upon Emilia, tightening the grip on her face until it hurt. Enough was enough, the witch decided. She had to act – and quickly. While she still had some control of her jaw, she uttered a soft incantation to put an end to their language problems.

"_To ease us all of any tension,_

_Grant both parties comprehension."_

The effect was instantaneous. The girl's cries and the demon's wrathful mutterings became suddenly intelligible.

"Lord Sesshoumaru, please!" the child was begging. "Please don't hurt her!"

The demon said nothing, did nothing, though his grip on Emilia's face was still rather painful. His eyes were glittering with vengeful fury but something – the girl, perhaps - held him back. Hoping against hope that her spell worked both ways, Emilia decided to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible.

"Put me down," she said, in a soft, dignified voice that was neither commanding nor pleading. The demon's eyes widened in surprise and, though he did not release her, her sudden acquisition of his mother tongue caused him to relax his grip.

"About time too," came Astaroth's voice from her feet, and at once the child began to squeal in delight at this rather un-catlike gesture. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten your powers."

Emilia ignored her familiar's sarcasm, her gaze fixed on the demon who was still holding her face.

"You speak now," he murmured, and his tone was midway between haughty and amused. Emilia frowned, if only a little, and nodded as best as she could.

"Indeed," she replied, "though I could speak better if you were to let go of my jaw."

She was taken aback when he obliged, his golden eyes fixing her with a searching stare. Now that their little fray had been mediated, he appeared to be taking her in, judging her. His nostrils were flaring ever so slightly, as though he were trying to discern some identifying scent.

"You are human," he proclaimed eventually, and, had she not been studying him so carefully, she might have missed the tiny ghost of a smirk that pulled at his lips.

"She's a witch, actually," Astaroth sniffed, as though highly offended by this blatant understatement, and Emilia felt a gentle rush of loyal warmth towards him.

"Which would make you a familiar, I suppose," the demon countered, making no attempt this time to conceal his scorn. Emilia was not sure of the reason for such disdain. As far as she was aware, familiars were demons too, only confined specifically to animal form. She made a mental note to ask Astaroth later, who was scowling at the demon as deeply as his cat's eyes would allow.

"Look," Emilia began, slowly, taking a slight step forward between Astaroth and the demon. "We aren't here to cause any trouble. We simply need to acquire transport and for that we need a wizard village. Do you know where we might find one?"

The demon glanced at her with his cold, yellow eyes, his expression unfathomable. Now that he did not have her in a choke hold, Emilia could appreciate that he was in fact very beautiful, even with his peculiar markings. His hair – the most astonishing shade of silver-blue Emilia had ever seen – glittered subtly in the moonlight, lifted here and there by a gentle breeze. She could feel her cheeks beginning to flush under the intensity of his gaze. Were she perhaps some silly girlish maiden, she might have looked away; but Emilia was a lady and she held his stare with dignity.

"I know of one," he said eventually, in a disinterested voice. "But it lies far west of here. You will never find it alone."

Emilia felt only a slight stab of annoyance. She had managed so far to navigate the world without assistance: what trouble was one more stretch of land?

"As it happens, the village you seek is on route to my own destination," he went on. "But I see no reason why I should direct you."

"Perhaps you have no choice?" Astaroth suggested, darkly. "She's quite capable of killing you, if she wants to."

"Astaroth!" Emilia hissed, glaring wide-eyed at her familiar. The demon, however, seemed to find this notion rather funny, for her was smiling – a cruel, cold sort of smile that only served to double Emilia's mortification.

"I find that unlikely" he murmured, his voice rich with amusement. "Your mistress could make no move against me when her life was in danger. What makes you think she could do so otherwise?"

"You took her by surprise, nothing more," Astaroth shot back. "In her right mind, Emilia could quite easily dispose of you."

Emilia sighed. It was futile, she decided, to engage him once again in argument. As much as she did not fully like this cold, arrogant creature, she needed his help; there had to be some way she could persuade him. How, though, was another question. She had no real objects of value on her person, though she had the feeling he would not be interested in tawdry treasures. He certainly did not seem in need of her assistance, be she magical or not. She had no idea what she could possibly offer him to gain his assistance. However, it appeared that she might not need to. The girl he had called Rin had finally stepped forward, standing uncertainly at the demon's side. Now that she was closer, Emilia could see she was about thirteen, though certainly quite small for her age, with a sweet countenance and dark, inquisitive eyes. She tugged softly on the demon's clothing and he turned patiently, almost habitually, down towards her.

"Lord Sesshoumaru," she began, timidly. "Please can she come? It would be nice to have another girl to talk to."

At her words, the demon's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise, and though he quickly concealed it, Emilia could almost see his mind working. She glanced at Rin, who was regarding him with imploring eyes.

"Fine," he conceded, eventually, and Emilia thought she heard the tiniest trace of something like sadness beneath his cool tome. "She may come, though if she or her familiar get in my way, they shall both be making their journey alone."

Rin's face broke into a warm smile, which was not returned.

"Thank you Lord Sesshoumaru," she bade him graciously, though he brushed her words aside with an impatient wave of his clawed hand.

"Come," he murmured. "Jaken is waiting for us. Tell your new companion to bring her belongings."

He gave her another furtive glance before turning and starting back towards the forest. Rin glanced back and beamed at Emilia, gesturing at her to follow.

"Come on Astaroth," the young witch smiled wryly. "It would not do to keep our new Lord waiting."

The familiar cast his mistress a foul look, though he followed nonetheless, muttering all the while under his breath about the distrustfulness of fully fledged demons.


End file.
